Our abrupt crash into an Arctic winter has left me a little shell-shocked. In a matter of three days, I went from skipping rocks at the lakeshore without need for a jacket to being locked inside my house by snowdrifts and single-digit temperatures.
My housecat has always blamed
bad weather on me. When I opened the door
to driving snow and wind yesterday morning to let him out, he shook his head as
if splashed with water, ran back behind me, and sat there, scowling at me.
“It’s not my fault,” I told
him.
To make myself feel better about our seeming drop to the inside of the freezer, I have been trying to find the bright side. Following are a few good things about our winter impulse:
- The spiders outside are frozen in place
- No risk of wildfires
- Don’t need to mow the lawn
- No more boombox boats rattling my house with their music as they pull wakeboarders down the lake
Not much, I know. But the glass is at least an eighth-full. Oh, one last “good thing.” Before the snow turned to drifts, I managed
to write Desiree’s name in the snow on my back deck. She has never experienced snow. More on that when she does…
—Mitchell Hegman
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